First Thoughts
by Pylila
Summary: "Blaine had an inconvenient habit of saying the first thing that came to his mind without thinking about it. And sometimes it was a bit… unfortunate." One-shot, little situations where Blaine's mouth gets him into trouble. Read and review!


A/N: Informal story-telling for the win! Okay, so… for this to work, let's just pretend Rachel's party was on Friday night instead of Saturday. Okay? Okay. Good. …Actually, just disregard all minute details and just remember general nuances of the show. 'Kay… break! Oh! Wait. Also, I made up a new word, "snortling." Well, I didn't really make it up, it's one of those words everyone uses even though it's not technically a word. Oh, I also made up "deathiest" and "blazered." …On with the show!

xxxx

Blaine had an inconvenient habit of saying the first thing that came to his mind without thinking about it. Sometimes it was a harmless habit, like when his first thought was something like, "Her shoes are adorable," and sometimes it was a bit… unfortunate.

xxxx

"I'm not sure… you don't think your friends will think I'm a spy?"

"Not at all, they trust me." Kurt had just asked Blaine if he wanted to go to Rachel's party that night. "Besides, Rachel has a stage in her basement. It's pretty spectacular."

Blaine and Kurt were walking through the bustling halls of Dalton Academy; the last bell of the day had just rung and boys were flowing into the corridors from classrooms like streams converging into a river.

"Okay, if you're sure they won't hate me." Blaine said.

"Great! Okay," Kurt clapped his hands in front of him as if about to explain a detailed football strategy, "Finn's coming to pick me up today since my baby's transis- transmitter, trans- something that starts with '"trans" - is broken and she's in the shop. So you can come with us and we'll stop by your place to raid your closet for a good party ensemble, then we'll go to my place and watch that holographic fashion show Burberry just did until the party starts!"

Blaine chuckled. "Sounds good."

They had reached the parking lot by now and Finn stood out like an orchid in a field of clovers. The parking lot was mostly occupied by blazered, sleek-haired guys getting into shiny, silver imports. But there stood Finn, all six foot-three of him in his hillbilly vest, leaning against his rusty, white Dodge.

"Hey Kurt." Finn nodded as Kurt and Blaine approached the truck.

"Hey, Frankenteen," Kurt replied as he threw his bag into the back of the truck.

"You're Blaine?" Finn had turned towards Blaine.

"Yeah. Yes, I am," Blaine reached out to shake Finn's hand, "You're very attractive, I can see why Kurt had a crush on you."

Finn blushed and jerked his eyes to the sky as if he had never seen the colour blue before.

Kurt gave Blaine the deathiest of death glares ever.

xxxx

Thursday nights at Breadsticks were becoming a tradition for Kurt, Blaine and Mercedes. Unfortunately for one of the servers, however, they were traditionally in a younger girl's section of the restaurant.

Before they had even ordered, Blaine and Kurt had gotten into a heated discussion about health drinks.

"Yeah, but the reason blueberry green tea is so amazing is because of the combined powers of the antioxidants in green tea and blueberries. It's, like, the Superman of green teas. Right, Mercedes?" Blaine had turned to Mercedes for support.

"Um, I drink... milkshakes." Mercedes responded uselessly.

"Oh… Well, you can get blueberry milkshakes, too."

Kurt laughed openly at Blaine's feeble attempt to relate to Mercedes.

That was when the waitress came over.

"Hi there, can I get you any drinks to start?" She said sincerely.

"Got any blueberry milkshakes?" Kurt said behind a chuckle.

"I'll have an iced tea, please," Mercedes said, snortling right alongside Kurt.

"And you, sir?" She directed her question at Blaine.

"Um, yeah, iced tea sounds good. Say, aren't you a little old to be a waitress? I mean, not that it's bad or anything, just that, do you have, like, a family to support? Or…."

Kurt and Mercedes both stopped mid-laugh and shot Blaine looks of absolute mortification. The poor server looked perplexed. Needless to say, they left quite a generous tip that night.

xxxx

"Remember, Blaine, Mr. Wentworth is a large benefactor to the school, so if you make a crappy first impression, he could very well get our daughter kicked out of pre-school." Kurt was whispering ferociously into Blaine's ear as they approached a tall, very stately man in a suit. They were in the auditorium of a prestigious school that their daughter was attending. They had just watched her winter concert and all of the attendees were now mingling as rich grown-ups do.

"Hello, Sir," Kurt shook Mr. Wentworth's hand enthusiastically.

"Ah, you must be Madeline's fathers, yes?" Mr. Wentworth's voice boomed liked a subwoofer as he surveyed Kurt and Blaine.

"Wow, you look just like Daddy Warbucks," Blaine said immediately, "Haha, have you adopted any redheaded children lately?" Blaine laughed at his own joke, but his laughter died as he saw the look on Kurt's face. He knew that look, it was Kurt's You're-Embarassing-Me-Yet-Again look.

Kurt leaned in to whisper to Blaine: "_His adopted son died in a drunk driving accident last month._"

Oops.

xxxx

Blaine knocked on his daughter's bedroom door for the gajillionth time that evening.

"Wha-at?" Madeline's sign-song voice answered irately.

"Does Bradley eat mushrooms? Because your dad wants to make this weird stuffed mushroom thingy that-"

The door flew open and there stood Madeline in a towel, her blonde hair wet and her freckled skin shining from her shower. "He's a teenaged boy. He eats like a garbage truck. You could put a live, squirming sea cucumber in front of him and he'd gobble it up like a Big Mac."

"Right. Okay, then." Blaine left for the kitchen to tell Kurt that the mushrooms were a go.

Half an hour later, Blaine was hiding from Kurt in the living room so he wouldn't have to help with dinner. The doorbell rang and Madeline came bounding down the stairs, her hair dry and her body clothed, to answer the door. She flung it open and there stood Bradley, a behemoth of a seventeen-year-old with dark, curly hair and large, blue eyes. Madeline pecked him on the cheek then said, "Bradley, this is my dad. Dad, this is Bradley."

Blaine shook Bradley's hand politely. He noticed that Bradley's hands were very rough. "Rough hands," He said.

"Yeah," Bradley responded, "I work part-time doing construction so I use my hands a lot."

"You should put some aloe on those, I'm sure Maddie would appreciate it."

Madeline and Bradley exchanged awkward glances.

"Oh, god," Blaine caught his error, "I don't mean that sexually, I just meant- her skin is very sensitive, and, well, I'm sure you know that, I mean- no! Just that-"

"Blaine, Honey," Kurt said loudly from directly behind Blaine, saving the day, "what did I tell you about speaking when I'm not around? You know it never goes well. Hi," Kurt held his hand out to Bradley, "I'm Kurt. Excuse my husband, I write scripts for him but he insists on ad-libbing his conversations. It usually ends disastrously." Kurt led Bradley into the dining room. Madeline smiled coyly at Blaine before following them. Blaine remained standing in the entryway, blushing and wondering if he could get through the evening without saying another word.

Kurt had snuck back behind Blaine and snaked his hands around Blaine's waist.

"I really need to work on that thinking-before-I-speak thing." Blaine said.

Kurt laughed. "You're still the same boy I fell in love with when I was seventeen."

Blaine turned around in Kurt's arms and gave his husband a chaste peck on the lips, then pulled him into a tight embrace.

Kurt rested his head on Blaine's shoulder. "You're right, you know," Kurt murmured, "that boy could really benefit from a moisturizing regimen."

xxxx

A/N: Yay, my first one-shot! It's a bit sloppy, but I just wanted to get it down. Reviews are loved like puppies by me!


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